The Pardoner's Crime (20 page)

Suddenly the jaws of Hell dropped fully open and a masked figure dressed as a demon in scarlet jumped forth. But instead of the usual fork that he was supposed to brandish, he held a bow, already notched and bent back.

‘“An Eye for an Eye, sayeth the lord”!' he cried. ‘Thus die tyrants, traitors and their spawn!'

Richard cried out, ‘Hubert!'

Hubert of Loxley reacted instantly. Thrusting himself between the King and le Dispenser's chairs, he spun round, grabbed le Dispenser by the neck and dragged him towards the king. Then in one movement he encircled them both in his arms and threw all of his weight forwards to topple the King's
chair backwards. So great was their momentum that they all tumbled over the back of the chair.

There was a swooshing noise and an arrow shot over them and skewered a man at arms through the thigh. It knocked him off his feet and he fell to the ground, a severed artery pumping blood.

‘Hood!' Richard cried, unsheathing his sword and dashing, as were several soldiers of the king's guard, in the direction of the scarlet demon-clad bowman.

Immediately a figure appeared atop the scaffolding of the tower of All Saints, a bow and arrow at the ready.

Richard sprinted, aware that the demon had calmly reached to a quiver on his back and had already drawn and notched another arrow. He drew back the cord and the yew bow began to bend.

‘Die!' he bellowed.

But before he released it, it looked as if he had been struck with a battering ram. With a sickening thud an arrow thumped into his shoulder amid a splurt of blood. The bow fell from his hand and the arrow went wild as he was hurled backwards to fall into the jaws of Hell.

A soldier of the guard ahead of Richard vaulted onto the pageant and grasping his sword in both hands raised it above his head to cleave the assassin in two. Richard leapt up, crying ‘No!' – and thrust his sword forward in time to parry the soldier's downward blow.

‘He … must … be taken alive!' he yelled.

And, as the soldier swung his sword up again, his training to protect the King at all costs, Richard turned his sword broadways and struck the unfortunate soldier across the chest with the flat of the blade, knocking him sideways to fall over one of the great wagon wheels of the pageant.

Other soldiers had by now mounted the pageant and were homing in on the assassin who lay, writhing in agony, twitching feebly at the arrow embedded in his shoulder. Richard wheeled on them, his sword at the ready.

‘Hold your swords!' he cried. ‘I am Sir Richard Lee, Sergeant-at-Law. I need this man alive!' He swung the sword menacingly. ‘Now hold, or I will maim any man who moves.'

Such was the savagery and determination of his order that the men held their arms. They surrounded the prisoner and hauled him roughly to his feet.

Only then did Richard allow himself to turn to see what had happened. The crowd had panicked and people were trying to escape the confines of the Bull Ring. With relief he saw Hubert, the King and le Dispenser rising from behind the tumbled chair. Casting an eye at the church tower he noted with relief that there was no one there.

He turned at the gasps of pain from the prisoner, who was receiving no sympathy from the hardened soldiers.

Richard reached for the assassin's mask and pulled it away.

His eyes widened in surprise.

‘You! Surely it cannot be?'

I
t took some time for the soldiers, mainly under Sir Thomas Deyville's directions to settle the panicking townspeople and allow them to leave the Bull Ring in an orderly manner. Difficult though that was, Richard had a harder task. It took all of his powers of persuasion to prevent the summary execution of the assassin on the King's orders, for his temper was furious, believing as he did that the assassin had been sent by his wife, Queen Isabella. So it was that the prisoner was manhandled by soldiers to the Tolbooth and thrown into the cell next to the one containing the two dead bodies.

Father Daniel offered the use of his home for the King and le Dispenser to take refreshments, an offer which was less than graciously taken up.

‘I need to get Wilfred Oldthorpe to remove that arrow from the assassin,' Richard said to Sir Thomas.

‘I think we should let the cur rot. Why make death less appealing?' Sir Thomas replied.

Lady Alecia was looking pale and badly shaken. She put a hand on Richard's wrist. ‘The apothecary may not be in the town. We sent for him to look at Lady Wilhelmina, if you remember.'

Richard thanked her and excused himself. He soon found Hubert with Beatrice Quigley's arms about him.

‘Good Hubert, you were magnificent and truly saved the King today. That arrow must have missed you by inches.'

Hubert grinned and produced his talisman. He kissed it. ‘It was my crusader's arrowhead, sir. That arrow could never have reached me.' He shook his head. ‘Which is more than can be said for that poor fellow who was standing there guarding the King's back. He was bleeding like a stuck pig.'

Richard put an arm about Hubert's shoulders and guided him aside. ‘I shall return him soon, Beatrice,' he said to her. ‘I still have need of Hubert's services.' Once they were a few paces away he whispered, ‘I want you to go to All Saint's Church and look in the sanctuary. There is someone there who deserves the sanctuary of the church, and who must not be taken.'

‘You mean Robin Hood, my lord?' Hubert asked with a smile. ‘I fancied that you had some game up your sleeve. Trust me, I shall go and no one shall know why I go.'

Richard slipped away, noticing with a smile that Beatrice was quick to take Hubert in her arms again and shower him with the kisses reserved for heroes and lovers.

He went quickly to the Westgate and headed for Master Oldthorpe the apothecary's premises. The door was closed but opened easily at his shove. He called out then went through to the apothecary's treatment room.

Master Oldthorpe, the apothecary, was there. He was lying on the reed floor in a pool of his own blood. By his side was a large flask that had been used to stave in the back of his skull.

Richard rode like the wind towards Sandal Castle. Fearing that he had no time to waste, he had set off immediately and let his mount have its head on the long undulating road south towards Sandal. By the time he began the snaking climb up the hill towards the castle the horse was lathered and snorting heavily.

‘Just a little further, then you shall rest,' he whispered, as he bent low over its ear. Halfway towards the top he dismounted behind some trees and tethered the horse so that
it could crop some of the grass by the verge of the trail. He proceeded on foot, his nerves on edge and his heart racing.

There was no challenge from the battlements as he jogged along the side of the outer moat towards the gate. The
drawbridge
was down and the portcullis was up. Again, there was no challenge from within.

Richard edged across the drawbridge and peered round the door of the gatehouse. Slumped in a corner lay two men; the gatehouse-keeper and one of the guards. Richard checked them and found that they were both deeply unconscious. Two mugs lay on the floor with half their contents spilled over the stone flagstones. He had no doubt that the ale they had been given had been drugged, hence the lack of challenge and the raised portcullis.

‘I pray that I am not too late,' he whispered to himself, and moved off to enter the seemingly deserted castle, looking about him all the time. Upon the battlement wall he spied the collapsed forms of two more guards.

The door of the steward's lodge was standing ajar and he went through the passage and mounted the steps.

He heard the noise of someone retching and vomiting upstairs.

Step by step he went up, wary lest the creaking of timber should give his presence away. Along the corridor he went to an open doorway. He looked inside and saw Lady Wilhelmina lying on her side in bed, a vomit-bowl by her side. Standing over her, dressed in a man's surcoat, hose and riding boots was Emma Oldthorpe. On the bed was the unmistakable shape of a pewter bleeding bowl and in the apothecary's wife's hand was a long, thin, phlebotomy knife.

‘Have you come to bleed Lady Wilhelmina?' Richard asked, stepping in the door.

Lady Wilhelmina's face was alabaster pale. She looked up weakly and gave him a thin smile.

‘Sir Richard, what a pleasant surprise,' purred Emma Oldthorpe. ‘Are you not at the Mysteries?'

‘No, I came to visit Lady Wilhelmina. I heard from Lady Alecia that she had sent for your husband.'

‘He was unable to come so he sent me. I have skills with a knife.'

‘I saw him, Emma,' he said. ‘Did you kill him?'

There was a creak on the stairs and then running feet. ‘You were right,' called out Gideon Kitchen. ‘I have it. It was just where you said it—'

He came in the doorway and stopped short when he saw Richard. In one hand was a small sack and in the other a wicked-looking short sword.

‘You have what, Gideon Kitchen?' Richard asked. ‘More drugs? It was you who drugged the guards, I take it?'

The normally beaming face took on an ugly, aggressive expression.

Emma laughed at his look of discomfiture. ‘Yes, it was Gideon, my faithful assistant here. One of our little group. And he gave the Lady Wilhelmina the mix which nicely
incommoded
her today and kept her away from the Mysteries. I knew they would send for Wilfred.' She nodded her head casually. ‘And in answer to your question, did I kill Wilfred – no! That was Gilbert, my dear younger brother.'

‘A good disguise,' Richard commented. ‘He really looked like a hunchback.'

Emma shrugged. ‘It was an uncomfortable contraption, but it served its purpose.'

‘And he killed all those men, didn't he?'

She nodded her head appreciatively. ‘You are a clever man, Sir Richard.' She pouted. ‘And more attractive than most. I almost wish that I had slept with you.'

Lady Wilhelmina raised her head, almost with an
expression
of horror on her face. Then she sighed and bent her head over the bowl again. Emma patted her back with the hand still holding the knife. ‘There, there, my dear. Soon I will put you out of your misery.'

Richard looked anxiously at the knife. ‘It had much to do
with teeth, did it not? Teeth belonging to the Earl of Lancaster, unless I am mistaken. Pulled from his decapitated head by the executioner.'

Gideon Kitchen shuffled uneasily. ‘Why are you telling him all this, Emma? We should be getting away.'

‘Silence!' she hissed. ‘Sir Richard has a perfect right to know. He has reasoned out so much that I am intrigued, and I appreciate intelligence, since I so rarely meet anyone with any.' She reached up to her neck with her free hand and pulled from under her surcoat a necklace. ‘And here they are. When he had my half-brother Piers murdered and
decapitated
I vowed that I would wear a necklace of his teeth.' She gave a short laugh. ‘But the greedy fool of a headsman sold three to that Pardoner.'

Richard nodded. ‘So the Gaveston family was larger than anyone knew.'

‘Our father served the old King in Wales. Gilbert and I were brought up as the children of a merchant in Caernarvon. When he died and Piers had become Edward's lover, Piers found us and “favoured” us. Gilbert was devoted to him. When Piers was foully murdered we promised that we would make them all pay. First we made it to Warwick, where I married that fool Wilfred, who taught me so much of medicines and poisons. And that is where we managed to get to Earl Warwick and poisoned him for his crime, for he was supposed to have protected Piers. Instead of that he let the dog Lancaster drag him from his castle.'

‘And so the Pardoner had to die in case his story led to the headsman and then to you?'

‘That is right. We had our mission. First to take back the jewels that Earl Lancaster stole from Newcastle when he and his band of cutthroat nobles chased Piers and the King. I knew that the bastard would hide them here in Sandal Castle. It would have given him pleasure to hide them here in his old enemy's former home.' She nodded at Gideon Kitchen. ‘Tell him where they were, Gideon.'

‘In the bell in the Earl's Chapel,' the cook said truculently.

‘Of course, the blacksmith who died suddenly!' said Richard.

‘After he gave me the information he had. I had to encourage him, a little.'

‘You seduced him?'

She turned up her nose. ‘Oh no! That would have been as bad as sleeping with my odious old husband. Let us just say that I stroked his manhood a little. Then Gideon dispatched him with a little hemlock in his stew.'

‘Emma, I really think we—' Gideon Kitchen began.

‘And Hector Lunt, did he also have to die because he bought one of the Pardoner's fake relics, a tooth of a saint?'

‘Very good,' she purred. ‘Guisley, that fool of a headsman! He had to go too, just in case.'

‘And when your brother killed them both, he said that it was “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” He really meant that, didn't he?'

It was Emma Oldthorpe's turn to look surprised. ‘Gilbert can be so foolish sometimes. But he is passionate. Just as he was passionate about his archery and his skill with the bow. He has really cared about nothing else except getting even with them all for what they did to Piers. Yes, we took Lancaster's teeth and we planned to take Edward's new
Eye
, for that is what he calls his creature le Dispenser. But first we needed to kill that bastard King for being so weak after Piers was murdered.'

Richard frowned. ‘But why Scathelocke? Why did he kill him so cruelly?'

She shrugged. ‘Practice, that was all. He was a pitiful
specimen
of a man and he just put him out of his misery. Target practice.'

Wilhelmina retched into her bowl. ‘You w … witch!' she gasped.

Emma laughed. ‘And by now Gilbert will probably have dispatched both of them. He should be with us soon.'

Richard shook his head. ‘He will not be coming, Emma. He
was shot and taken. The King and le Dispenser are safe and your brother lies in the Tolbooth with an arrow in his shoulder.'

Her face contorted with rage. ‘You lie!'

‘I pulled the demon mask from his face myself.'

‘Kill him now!' she cried.

Gideon Kitchen dropped the sack and thrust his sword at Richard, who dodged, kicked out at the cook's wrist and tried to draw his own sword. Yet the cook, lame though he was, knew a trick or two. He swung his sword round and slashed sideways in a scything action, going for Richard's legs. Richard immediately jumped, then, as soon as he landed, closed in on the cook, breaking his nose with a straight-armed punch to his face and following with a vicious upward blow to his jaw that lifted him off his feet and deposited him in an unconscious heap in the corner of the room.

‘Stand where you are!' Emma cried, as he spun round to face her.

Richard stared in horror at the sight of her with one hand enmeshed in Wilhelmina's hair and the knife pressed against her throat.

‘You know that I will use this. Now take out your sword and drop it out of that window, then kick the sack over by the door.

Richard did as he was bidden. ‘So you are going? A common robber, betraying your fellows.'

She sneered. ‘Gideon can escape if he comes round in time. Me, I shall ride far and without hindrance.'

‘Leave Wilhelmina,' Richard pleaded.

‘Move over by the bed. She is coming some of the way with me. You, I am afraid will be locked in here.' She wrinkled her nose. ‘Just think, Richard, if things had been different you could have enjoyed me in a bed like that.'

He eyed her distastefully. ‘I had a lucky escape then.'

She laughed and hauled on Wilhelmina's hair. ‘Get up, my lady. And take a care, for this knife is sharp.' And to prove her point she pressed the blade slightly so that a trickle of blood flowed down Wilhelmina's throat. Wilhelmina gasped
in pain, but dared not move. ‘Now bend slowly and pick up this sack.'

They moved as one and then Emma backed out of the doorway, dragging Wilhelmina with her.

‘D … don't hurt me,' Wilhelmina whimpered.

Emma sneered. ‘Like so many ladies, gutless!'

‘Yet she has many womanly qualities,' said Richard. ‘She likes music, for one thing.'

‘What?' Emma demanded.

As if by magic there was the sudden strumming of a lute from the corridor and Emma slackened her grip and turned her head to see the smiling minstrel, Alan-a-Dale standing there with his lute in his hands.

Wilhelmina grasped the sack with both hands and swung it upwards with all her strength. It arced over her shoulder and caught Emma on the temple.

The knife fell from her hand and she crumpled unconscious to the floor.

‘Find something to bind her with,' Richard instructed Alan-a-Dale, while he strode over in time to catch Wilhelmina who had started to fall in a dead faint.

When she came round some moments later and found Richard's concerned face staring down at her tenderly she smiled. Then her expression changed to one of consternation. ‘What did she mean you
almost
slept with her? Why not with me?'